A Testament to Life and Death
by pavarotti
Summary: Things were bad for Kurt Hummel. Things were far worse for Blaine Anderson. If things were going to get better, now was the time.


**A Testament to Life and Death**

Kurt had these moments in life where he could actually breathe and marvel in the beauty. Life was beautiful and he felt his body tremble as he realized that there was more to living than letting others choose how you do it. There was something about a flower that made him smile or two people holding hands that made his heart skip a beat in envy - the good kind. Kurt knew in those moments that God couldn't be real. No one could make the world an amazing place. But someone could make it bad and evil and full of so much hatred.

The days Kurt felt the hatred the most were the days he doubted life. He wondered if it would hurt if he died and wondered if he'd go to heaven or hell, which wasn't something he should worry about if there wasn't a God. But he still thought it over. How would his father deal if he wasn't around anymore? Burt was brave and willing to try, but one can only try for so long. Kurt knew all his friends would move on in due time and he felt bad for making it seem like they didn't care all that much for him.

Suicide was appealing, but Kurt wasn't brave enough to take his life. Part of him knew that life did get better - the sunshine would be brighter and the grass would be greener. But when? Kurt didn't like the aspect of waiting for the bad days to be gone. He wanted to be able to walk without looking over his shoulder or wear clothes without being mocked or act like himself without being judged.

Kurt Hummel was ready to be free and every time he tried to escape the lock on the cage only got bigger and tougher to break.

He was trapped and suffocating. How long would it be before he shut his eyes and never woke up? How long would it be until he was free?

As Kurt walked home in the wet, spring evening, he couldn't help but think over how bad today had been and how worse it probably will get. His tires had been slashed and he'd gotten slushied just as he pulled out his cellphone to call his dad to come pick him up. It was the third time he'd been covered in artificial flavors and corn syrup; he was out of clean clothes. His cellphone had been damaged and his step-brother Finn was long gone. The parking lot was emptying and Kurt stared with moist eyes at the backs of various members of the football team as they went on their way, all cheering over their bullying victory. Abandoned, red and cold, Kurt had no choice but to walk home.

He didn't live far from the school but as he made his way through the neighborhood next a block away the weather turned for the worse. Thunder cracked in the sky and the rain dripped from the gray clouds. Kurt crossed his arms, thinking to himself how the rain would help with the stickiness. He should have used the phone in the school office but he was too upset to face anyone. Teachers and staff would ask him what happened, but they wouldn't do anything about it. There was no point in asking for help.

It was almost five when Kurt saw him, causing him to chase after him.

Kurt walked along the sidewalk, keeping his head high as he planned what he'd do when he got home. His father would no doubt be there, ready to yell at him for being late. Then he'd notice that Kurt was anything but in a rebellious mode. Kurt would have to explain what happened, how he had been humiliated, how he was sure he was getting a cold. Burt would be angry and threaten to make everything okay, but Kurt would push it away and tell his father that he was fine, that he could handle it.

Just as Kurt was kicking a rouge rock out of his way, he heard a door slam from the house he was about to pass. A boy with curly black hair stumbled out, his body falling into the wet grass. He jumped up and his shoes slipped against the grass once more, but he caught himself and headed straight towards Kurt. The first thing he noticed was the boy's grass-stained t-shirt, and then his wet jeans. But his eyes snapped straight to the boy's eyes as he ran past.

They were big and wet. One had a bruise around it and the other just a shadow. He was breathing hard and nearly knocked Kurt over and he sprinted down the sidewalk. Kurt turned and watched as he cut across the street and headed down another neighborhood. There was something about the boy that put Kurt off.

Kurt wanted to describe him as angry, but that would be a lie. Kurt had seen those eyes before. He sees them every day. They were his eyes. They were full of fear. That boy hadn't been angry; he was terrified. The realization made Kurt's breathing stop and his heart skip a beat. It didn't take him long before he pulled himself together and chased after the boy.

Kurt wasn't all that great at running but he could keep at it for a long time. Singing and dancing did have it's advantages after all. The boy was a good distance from him, but Kurt made sure to keep an eye on him just in case he suddenly disappeared, which he did. When the end of the neighborhood ended and the busy road began, the boy turned and Kurt had to push his legs harder to catch up. Kurt turned the same corner that the boy did and nearly tripped as he came to a sudden halt.

The boy had stopped his own running, only to shakily climb on to the top of the overpass.

"Stop!" Kurt screamed, suddenly moving again. Kurt watched as the boy turned his head to him, his chest rising as he breathed deeply and fast. "Don't jump!"

"Go away!" the boy growled. Kurt stopped a few feet away from him and put his hands up.

"Don't be stupid. Get down!"

The boy glared and looked down at the traffic below him.

"What does it matter?" he asked. "No one will care."

Kurt shook his head. "That's not true. Someone will most definitely care if you do this."

"Sure they will," the boy scoffed sarcastically. He looked over at Kurt. "Go away. You can't stop me."

Kurt's body was vibrating in fear and panic. What if he couldn't? What if Kurt couldn't stop him from jumping? What if this boy died?

"You don't have to do this. You can fix things another way," Kurt breathed, taking a step forward.

"No, I can't." The boy let out a single sob before he faced the road and made another attempt to stand at the top.

"Please, don't!" Kurt yelped, lunging for the boy. Kurt got a hold of his wrist and without thinking about it he tugged at it, trying to pull the boy down. The boy stumbled a bit and lost his balance. Kurt gasped as a foot came off the railing. Instead of falling forward the boy fell back and Kurt made an attempt to catch him.

The two fell onto the pavement, bruises guaranteed. Kurt put his arms around the boy's waist in case he made another attempt at jumping. Fortunately the boy didn't try. Instead he pulled his legs together and let his head fall into his hands. Kurt watched as the boy shook violently, the sound of crying being muffled by his hands.

Kurt let him go and moved in front of him, his pants forming a hole as he scooted over a rock. The boy pulled his legs into himself and Kurt watched as a tear found it's way out of his hands and fell onto the ground. It was then that Kurt realized that it had stopped raining. The setting was sun was appearing and Kurt couldn't help but curse the irony.

"It will be all right," he whispered to the crumbling mess in front of him. The boy only sobbed louder and Kurt put his arms around him, pulling the boy into his body. The stranger obliged to the comfort and released his hands and put his face in Kurt's chest before his arms went around Kurt's shoulders.

"I can't do this," he cried. "Not anymore."

"I know. I know. But you have to try," Kurt crooned.

The boy shook his head. "How can you be so sure? It just keeps getting worse, not better."

Kurt felt his own eyes tear up. He could relate. This was him.

The boy didn't say anything after, but his sobs turned into little gasps and tremors. Kurt rocked him slightly and rubbed his back, humming to him silently. The boy sniffled and started to pull away and Kurt hesitantly let go.

The two faced each other, both with wet cheeks.

"What's your name?" Kurt asked, watching the boy to make sure he didn't do anything stupid.

"Blaine Anderson. Who are you?"

"Kurt Hummel."

Blaine wiped at his eyes and a single sob came out. No other noises followed that one.

"I do know how you feel. About it not getting better," Kurt said. The boy looked at Kurt deeply then, taking in the red-stained clothes and frailty.

"It's not getting any better for you," Blaine stated.

Kurt nodded and sighed. "But it will. It has to."

"Like a miracle? I'm sorry, Kurt. But it's not going to get better. Everything's just getting worse and I can't handle it anymore. I need to...I just want it gone."

"I get bullied daily, Blaine. They come at me whenever they get the chance and they tear me down. I come home and I cry before I realize that if I keep dwelling in the pain and the hardships then it won't ever get better. I have to balance out the hate with love."

"That works for you, but it doesn't for me. Whenever I try to bounce back from something they just push me down further."

"They will. But eventually they're not going to be able to push you around. No one stays in one place forever and we all change. Remember when you were a kid? Santa Clause was real. Saying sorry was the easiest thing to do. Candy was the best thing in the world. Money was just a thing and stress was a myth. Eventually we grow up and learn things the hard way, but we learn and we experience and we grow." Kurt put two supportive hands on Blaine's shoulders and took his eyes into his. "This is just one of the many obstacles in our life we have to overcome."

Blaine had a tiny grin. "You seem so sure."

"I'm not, but it's nice to pretend."

"Why do people bully you? You seem like a nice guy."

Kurt smiled half-heartedly. "I get bullied because I'm different. Because I'm everything that they're not. Because they know that I'm going to be someone and they won't."

"I'm opposite: I try to be like them," Blaine stated.

"You shouldn't be anyone other than yourself."

Kurt got up on his feet and helped Blaine up. Kurt waited to feel the hand in his pull away, but it didn't. It was warm and soft and it held on tight.

"I wish I was as courageous as you," he said.

But I'm not, Kurt wanted to say. I'm just as much as a coward as the next person. Kurt was just saying the things he has to tell himself on a daily basis. Kurt tried to give himself courage. Sometimes it worked, but mostly it failed. Except for today. Except for right now.

"You're not alone, Blaine. And you don't have to be. It's good to have friends, someone to help you when there's nothing left."

He smiled. "I don't have friends. Not real ones, at least."

"I'm your friend now, Blaine. And together we'll see that it gets better and we'll finally get that happy ending we deserve."

"I guess I'm willing to try, only if I have someone like you waiting for me on the other side of all this."

Kurt intertwined their fingers and smiled to himself when Blaine didn't object. It was true. It does get better.


End file.
